The first word is haven, but we prefer harbor, because it smells like the sea. In the next page there is a haystack, and we couldn’t leave the needle out. If we are talking about impossible things, that would be a dream, and since cats are afraid of the water and their claws are sharp like needles we included a cat in the story.
Our cat had a dream. He wanted to sail the seven seas in search of adventures and new worlds. But like all cats he too was afraid of the water, and he had to settle for the only comfort he had left. Using his claws to tear apart other people’s haystacks. Their safe havens. Because our cat lost his dream. And if there was the smallest chance of those haystacks becoming someone else’s safe harbor, our cat had to unleash a storm and destroy them. Our cat had to become the same storm that destroyed his dream. Because he was still afraid, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone, of being the only one without a dream.
If an adventure is accomplishing something impossible, I wouldn’t have destroyed the haystack. I would have dived headfirst into it. And I would have spent half my life looking for an impossible-to-find needle, a dream.
I dislike false promises. If you know that cats are afraid of the water, don’t show me a future full of rowing cats, when you know as well as I do that that dream will never come true.
Why did you lie to me? Havens don’t exist. Even if I could moor in this harbor, I would never be safe.
I thought that the sea were open possibilities in front of me. But now that you have mentioned storms, they are all I see. Storms that deny and destroy my dreams. Because even if the cat were to overcome its fear and sail, you have shown me that a storm would drown it in the end.
Did you gain something by destroying that haystack? The chances of that destruction soothing your disillusion are as low as the ones of finding a needle.
I am still a child and that is why I love storms. Because I still haven’t built anything for myself and I can enjoy the destruction.
Only cowards take shelter. Overcome your fears and sail, instead of tearing haystacks apart trying to hide your cowardice, when the only refuge you refuse destroy is your own.
Little cat, I too know how to avert my gaze when I am ashamed of what I have done. But that doesn’t keep those that you have wronged from staring at you, and putting the guilt where it belongs.
Be my guest, little cat, unleash a storm. I will survive inside this haystack. Someone that didn’t even risk one of its seven lives will never be a rival to a true storm.
Little cat, I would never take shelter in a harbor that overlooks the sea. I wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of my life watching in the distance the dream I was too afraid to pursue.
I am sorry, little cat. I see you tearing that haystack apart, but I don’t understand where your rage comes from. I don’t see anything in the distance. I only see the things that are close to me. I don’t know what dreams are.
Silly cat, the only thing you have accomplished by venting your anger on that haystack is to lose your claws. You have only increased the odds of someone finding a needle.